


Storm Dragon Sign

by Lewdsmokesoldier



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Crests (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Doggy Style, F/M, Feral Marianne von Edmund, Fluff and Smut, Impregnation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:34:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28293906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lewdsmokesoldier/pseuds/Lewdsmokesoldier
Summary: Marianne has always been shy and despondent, professing herself to be cursed. But after five long years of slumber, Byleth returns to Garreg Mach and finds her to be unusually approachable and eager for contact. Could it be tied to her mysterious Crest?
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 11
Kudos: 47





	Storm Dragon Sign

**Author's Note:**

> I love Marianne so much. 
> 
> Happy holidays, and yay, this is my 100th story on Ao3!
> 
> You can follow my FE3H journey on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Lewdsmoke). I've started Black Eagles, but most of my first playthrough on Golden Deer is catalogued there.

Garreg Mach Monastery was exactly like he remembered. There was more rubble, sure, and the Cathedral hadn’t been repaired and the place was, well, emptier and less lively...but besides that, it was pretty much the same place. Byleth could almost pretend that nothing had changed, that the world hadn’t been torn and divided during his time away.

Okay, perhaps that didn’t make much sense, but he’d cut himself a little bit of slack. He’d been in a coma for five-odd years: his thinking was jilted, and his body was stiff and sore. Still, it was nice to see all his students again, even if he was a bit...surprised by how much some of them had grown and changed. And of course, there were those that hadn’t returned to the monastery, whose paths took them elsewhere...and whose courses promised eventual, unfortunate conflict.

Thankfully, that was not the case with one woman in particular. The last time Byleth had seen her, she’d been a sleep-deprived, baggy-eyed, perpetually crestfallen young woman, barely able to speak above a whisper, scared to linger with anyone else for any extended period. In some ways, she still was, but the Marianne von Edmund that he beheld in front of him, after half a decade away, was so much more than she had been.

Her blue, tousled, droopy hair had been tamed and trimmed, bangs cleaned up, hanging threads snipped away, the back and sides made up in an elegant, close-kept bun and crowning brain. She held herself taller, more confidently, the shadows beneath her eyes gone and replaced with a rosier complexion. Her uniform had been replaced with a dress made of layers of turquoise and darker blue cloth, the latter lending color to the short cape draped across her shoulders, all flowy and frilled with yellow and white trimming. 

Yes, Marianne seemed, if not happier, then at least not quite as forlorn as she had been before. She still carried herself with some nurtured sadness, but it was more restrained and controlled than when Byleth had known her at the monastery, and for once, he could imagine her happy.

Something seemed off, though. When he had approached her to greet her, to try to reconnect after their years apart, she seemed...nervous. And not with the glumness that he was used to watching her carry on with. Byleth had stepped up to her, smiled, voiced his happiness at seeing her, and asked how she had been.

Marianne had not met his eyes. She’d fumbled with her hands, interlocking and untangling her fingers, cheek and eyebrows twitching. She mumbled out a greeting, voice hitching on the words.

“H-h-hello, P-profes...professor…” Marianne stammered, still not looking at him. As Byleth watched, redness started to bloom across her face, coloring her cheeks a soft pink. He reached out a hand to take hers, to try to let her know that, yes, it was him, and no, he wasn’t a ghost, but she shrunk away. The edge of her lips seemed to catch in a movement between a smile and a snarl, and he stepped back, surprised and concerned. 

“I-I-I...I’m s-sorry, I have to g-go!” She squeaked, bowing stiffly, and then strode away, long dress swaying as she walked. Byleth was left to watch as she left, blinking and confused. She had always been a frightened young woman, but never before had he seen her go from fear into fidgeting, restless energy. Normally she just was resigned, morose, and quiet, rather than anxiously itching and stumbling over herself. Very unusual, and very worrying. He’d have to check on her later, maybe when there were fewer people around to make her scared. In the meantime, there were many others Byleth had to reacquaint himself with, and a world he still needed to get used to.

* * *

Byleth gave Marianne’s door a soft tap with his gloved knuckles, and called out that he was there. The sun was setting, and he knew that she’d most likely have retired back to her chambers by now. His other students had eased themselves back into their old dorm rooms quickly enough, so he didn’t have any reason to suspect that Marianne would be any different.

“J-j-just a m-m-minute!” Marianne stuttered through the door. He could hear the sheets of her bed rustle as she rose from it, then the shuffling of...was that fabric? Hm, maybe he’d caught her as she was getting ready for an early rest. Ah, well. Byleth stepped away from the door when her footsteps approached, and the wood creaked as she opened it a crack, leaning to the side to make sure it was him, then letting the door swing open more widely when she saw his face.

She might have been getting ready for bed, but she certainly didn’t look like it. Her hair, so neatly kept when he’d seen her before, was ruffled, the braid looser and some locks in her bun coming undone in hanging strands that reminded him of her appearance five years ago. She’d shed the heavier, more formal outer layer of her clothing, including the shoulder cape, and stood before him only in the thinner, lighter blue of the underdress, which he supposed could have functioned as a makeshift nightgown. Still, it seemed a bit...scanty of a thing to greet him with. Well, he _had_ caught her at an awkward time, maybe.

More than that, though, her face told him that something was wrong. Marianne was panting slightly, cheeks flushed, droplets of sweat beading her forehead. Her hands were clenched and pressed tightly against her sides, as if she was trying desperately to _not_ fidget with them, and she was rocking back and forth slightly. She looked terribly unwell, or at least tired, and Byleth stepped back and asked her if now was a bad time, if he needed her to return later.

“N-n-no! P-p-lease don’t g-g-go, Pro-professor!” Marianne stammered, fixing her eyes on him. Byleth wasn’t sure, but for a split-second he thought he saw her gaze flick downward, away from his face, and then return to make eye contact…

He nodded, and queried if she was feeling sick, and if he should call for Manuela. Marianne gulped loudly and shook her head, then shuffled to the side to let him enter, closing the door behind him. 

Byleth blinked and paused when the door swung shut. Marianne’s room...he hadn’t been in it much, back when she was a student, but he got the distinct sense that it _shouldn’t_ smell like, well, what it did. Warm, distinctly sharp and...roughly, aggressively sweaty. It even _smelled_ sticky, to put it one way.

He turned to look at Marianne, who was staring at him again. Her eyes, normally so dull and deadened with depressed apathy, were intently locked on him. Her mouth was closed, and she was breathing strongly through her nostrils, the air whistling out audibly. Her whole body shook, and she let loose a tiny, quiet moan and started to sway to the side.

Byleth rushed forward to catch her, to stop her fall, and secured Marianne’s weight under his hands, holding her by the small of her back and her shoulder. She was mumbling, reaching with her hands, fingers...wait, they were glistening? What was going on?

“P-p-p-professor…” Marianne groaned as he laid her to rest on one of her chairs, “I...I need he-help. Please.” 

Byleth nodded, and started to step away, promising to fetch Manuela, to figure out what was wrong with her. As soon as he moved to leave, Marianne’s hand darted forward, grabbing his wrist fiercely, holding on with more strength than he knew her to possess. He stopped, and she went right back to wheezing and panting furiously, staring...no, now she was _definitely_ not staring at his face. She was looking lower, lower than his chest, lower than his belly, lower down to…

“No!” Marianne cried out with a whiplash of sudden energy. “Not Manuela! I’m not sick! It’s my Crest!” 

He didn’t dare move as Marianne rose, still holding his wrist. Her fingertips were sopping wet, palms slick, but her hold on him was secure as she kept talking. “I thought it wouldn’t happen again, not after so long! But...but…”

She whimpered, her fire fading ever-so-slightly, enough that she was no longer shouting. She still wasn’t looking at Byleth’s face. 

“I need you, Professor. I...my Crest, it makes me...sometimes, it…” Marianne chewed her lower lip. “I get...I get _urges_ , Professor, and they...it’s voracious, and insatiable, and right now it’s too much, too hot, too…”

A full-body shudder rolled through Marianne, and she brought her other hand to Byleth’s shoulder, making him face her fully. _Now_ she was meeting his eyes. “I need you to _fuck_ me, Professor. I can’t...I’ve been trying to resist, but it won’t stop, and I can’t think, I can’t train, I can’t do _anything_ and I need you _so badly,_ Professor, please…”

Byleth hesitated. He’d had...some idea of where her focus had been, what with how intently she’d been staring at his crotch, but he’d never suspected...who’d ever heard of a Crest making someone yearn for sex? It seemed ridiculous, like one of those dirty books he’d caught Flayn trying to buy in the past, but he had no reason to doubt Marianne. She was his friend, and his former student. If she needed his help, he couldn’t bring himself to say no.

And—if he was being a bit selfish, here—Marianne was very, very pretty. Byleth had always thought so, and he knew she’d caught the attention of some of her fellow students, however much her demure, reclusive attitude seemed to disguise her from the more confident flirts, but it’d never been appropriate for Byleth to act on it. It _still_ might not be a good idea. But Marianne couldn’t make her desperation more obvious, and though he was a stoic man, Byleth wouldn’t turn down someone in need.

He smiled reassuringly, and he said yes, he would fuck her, and that he’d be more than happy to. Marianne sobbed with relief and delight, and dragged her fingers along his shoulderpads, grabbing at his cloak and outer layer. Her hands fumbled at latches and snatched at cloth, movements uncoordinated and clumsy, as she helped him peel off one layer after the next. She tugged at his tabard, and pulled at his pants, until, somehow, the two of them stumbled and struggled him into near-nakedness. All that remained was his tunic, and his undershorts, the rest heaped and tossed aside onto the carpet.

Marianne whimpered and squirmed, reaching one hand down to rub at the stiffness growing in his underclothing, gliding her fingers along the covered length aggressively. The other was thrown around his side, to drape and grab at the back of his shoulder. She was grinding her chest against his, squishing her tits flush to his own through both their layers of clothing. Byleth could feel the peaked nubs of her nipples through both sets of fabric, prodding and tickling his skin.

“Please please _please_ , Professor. I...I...I don’t know how mu-much longer I c-can wait, I need…” Marianne whined and leaned her head forward to mouth at his neck, tickling the crook of skin and bringing forth a surprised little yelp from between his lips. She shoved her crotch against his thigh, squeezing herself around it and trying to roll her hips to push closer. He could feel the slick, slippery wetness between her legs as she rocked against him, darkening the front of her dress as it folded down towards her from their close contact. Byleth moaned and grabbed at her shift by the shoulders, loath to pull away, but not daring to put this off any longer. Clearly, Marianne’s hunger was desperate indeed. 

With a grunt, Byleth stepped away from Marianne’s embrace, her lips separating from their spot on his neck, teeth dragging as he moved to leave shallow indentations in his skin. Her hands tried to keep their holds on his covered cock and shoulder, but he shed her grip, and even slipped his chest free from the pillowing pressure of her tits against him. She whimpered, pouting, lower lip trembling as he tugged up and off, pulling her dress off over her head.

Marianne...really _was_ beautiful. Her conservative attire disguised it, but she truly did have a prodigiously endowed chest, tits ripe and round, perky nipples swaying softly from being freed from their scanty restrictions. Her waist jutted out a bit sharply from her sides, but the touch of boniness gave her hips character, and didn’t take anything away from the smooth, plush softness of her thighs. An adorably silky soft tuft of blue hair crowned the wetness of her crotch, and she rubbed her legs together as he watched, clenching her fists and biting her lip, blinking rapidly. 

“Prof-profes-ssor, I-I c-can’t…” Marianne mewled and shuddered as Byleth pulled his tunic up and away, leaving him in just his undershorts...and, with a snap of the buttons on the front, those were loosened for him to step out of, too. Her eyes immediately flew to his crotch, to the growing hardness of his cock, and the prominent heft of his sack beneath, and there her gaze remained, intently locked and narrowed on that spot entirely. Her breathing stuttered and her teeth chattered, and a single string of drool dripped down from the corner of her mouth, hanging low before snapping off and splattering onto her right tit. 

“Uh. Ah. Oh.” Marianne gaped, mouthing empty words as she stared at his dick. Byleth’s initial hope had been to tease her, to edge her along with his fingers and tongue and lips, to drag out her pleasure, but the complete, hypnotic fixation on his crotch was...putting paid to those plans. It would be cruel to leave Marianne waiting for something she was so obviously utterly fixated on. 

Byleth swept Marianne up in his arms, then lay her on the carpet, turning her over onto her stomach. She moaned softly, limbs wobbling as she let him maneuver her into position. As he shifted her until she was finally on her hands and knees, the head of his dick nudging forward, jostling against her sopping, soaked pussy lips, forcing a piteous cry from between her lips.

“Pleasepleaseplease _put it in Professor I need it please~!_ ” That was all she was able to say, suddenly finding the energy to try to thrust backwards and plunge his dick into her. Marianne was facing away, but her voice had a plaintive, begging whine as she pleaded for him to make good on his promise. Ravenous as she seemed, she was still endearingly adorable, and Byleth couldn’t help himself.

He shoved forward in a smooth motion, plunging himself into Marianne with the urgency he knew she needed. She yelped, the muscles on her back tightening in the same instant that her pussy clamped down on his cock. Byleth grit his teeth. Marianne was extraordinarily warm and wet, clutching at him with the same desperate energy that drew him further in, soft and slick and oh-so lovely. He was hurrying more than he might have preferred, but Marianne had pleaded for him to help her as quickly as possible, so that was what he would do. He dug his hands into her ass and waist, squeezing her soft skin, as his dick plunged as far in as it would go, the base of his shaft kissing her pussy lips, the tip of his cock nudging at the recesses of her insides, his balls drumming her clit with every pound.

Byleth paused for a half-second, trying to let her acclimate, but Marianne merely whimpered and rolled her hips, her impatience obvious. So in lieu of letting her adjust to the sensation of being stretched out by his dick, Byleth leaned forward, brushed his forehead against the back of her blue, braided hair in approximation of a kiss, and withdrew his hips to pump back forward with an even faster motion.

Marianne whined and squealed as Byleth rammed himself into her from behind. Her tits jostled and shook, shuddering and heaving as he rocked her whole body to and fro, using her to stabilize himself and fuck her more thoroughly. Her cunt alternated between gripping him tight and smoothly allowing his passage, but he plowed back and forth to fuck her all the same. She caressed his cock nervously, but excitedly, trying to balance her earnest yearning to be dicked down with her natural inclination towards quiet reservation even as she was bent over and banged. The former seemed to winning out, with how fervently she was muttering his praises and begging for more.

"Yes yes _yes_ yes moremoremore don’t stop!” Marianne entreated him as he barrelled forwards and dragged his cockhead along her inner walls.

“S-s-so go-good! P-p-pro-profess-ssor...!” She beseeched while his length rubbed her furiously to and fro, thick and earnest and well and truly _there_.

“Professor, I’m...ah!” That last exclamation was the result of Byleth dipping his head forward to nip at the back of her neck, licking and nibbling her skin eagerly, draping himself across her back with a possessive, primal urge to _fuck_. His arms moved from her waist to wrap around her belly, one hand pawing at her hanging, bouncing breasts.

Marianne’s tits and ass were wildly jiggling as Byleth slammed into her, scattering sweat everywhere, droplets of perspiration dusting the carpet. Her nails tore at the carpet, scoring and ripping the material, fiercely trying to find focus as he threatened to unsteady her completely. She was still croaking out compliments, though, and even…

“C-c-cumming!” Marianne’s breath rattled, and she leaned her head back, crying out in a choking tone. “C-c-cumming so h-hard!”

She made good on her promise, and bore down on his cock with a mighty squeezing grip, warmth echoing out from her core, directly onto his dick, channeled through her fresh soaking of his length in the rush of wetness that was her orgasm. The slickness redoubled the elasticity and lubrication that enabled Byleth’s fucking, even as she grabbed him tighter than she already had been, creating a contradictory sensation of eased passage and restricted pressure.

It felt _really fucking good._ Byleth bit Marianne’s neck more aggressively, pressing himself so fully onto her back that it was a wonder she didn’t topple beneath his weight as he secured himself to spill inside her.

Byleth came with five years of pent-up eagerness, balls shuddering and throbbing as he unleashed himself into Marianne, grateful at last to finally have the chance to erupt inside her. His cream splattered the inside of her cunt, rushing deeper to flood her womb, and he kept cumming in frantic, quivering spurts that brought fresh moans from the woman he was stuffing full of spunk. Marianne’s eyes rolled back, her body stiffened, and she went taut and still, toes curling and voice cracking in an aborted yowl that seemed to freeze halfway from her mouth. She looked so overwhelmed, so overworked, that he would have felt sorry for her if she wasn’t so clearly having the time of her life. The warmth and fullness of being creampied had to be too much for her, overstimulated as she was, and the aftershocks of her prior orgasm rolled into a new one as she was rammed into, completely covered by his chest and crammed full of cock and cum.

Panting, Byleth separated his lips from Marianne’s neck, noting on her skin the rough red bite marks and softer suction pressure points that he had left. His dick was still firmly buried inside Marianne, the gooey, sticky heat of his load washing back over him, some small dribbles escaping to drip to the carpet messily. Marianne’s whole body was heaving with her breaths, eyelids twitching, head dipping slightly. It brought Byleth no small satisfaction to consider how dearly he’d strained her to bring her to that point.

And yet...Marianne was not breathing calmly, or with the antsy fidgeting that he had seen before. She seemed focused, tense, and she frowned slightly as Byleth leaned back and gave her space to turn her head, still wrapped around his dick. When she managed to let slip a thought, it was not a relaxed commendation of being satisfied.

“ _More._ ” Marianne growled. “Fuck me _more_ , Professor. Once is won't be enough, and if you don’t...” 

She trailed off, and there was an undercurrent of menace in her tone that surprised him. Her face was red and sweaty, her eyes were wild and twitchy, and her cheeks were flecked with drool. The rest of her didn’t look much better. 

“Rougher. I need it harder, to make sure that it’s _truly_ taken care of.” Marianne hissed as he held her close, got into a squat, and started to rise. The bed might be a better place to try to fuck this out of her system. That was the plan, at least, but she writhed and thrust her ass towards him that he stumbled backwards, until he landed on his back with a heavy _whump_. Suddenly, Marianne was atop him and facing away, her back streaked with sweat, asscheeks red from rubbing against his pelvis when he had draped himself across her back as he banged her from behind. His dick , dick had stayed securely inside her, which oddly pleased him. The idea that all his hard work of plastering her pussy with cum would go to waste in a downpour of escaping cream perturbed him, to say the least, though why, he could not say.

Marianne turned, until she was straddling him, thighs and knees pressed against his sides. Byleth expected to be given a moment to gather himself, to flip her over and run roughshod on Marianne from above, but when he tried to lift his legs to facilitate the reversal, Marianne shuddered and pressed her hands down onto his chest. She lifted herself into a squat, lowered her hips fully onto him, pushed down on his waist to keep him from rising, and hilted herself more securely on his dick. Her blue bush brushed against his own tangle of green hair, and she let a long, low moan roll through her.

“I can’t...” Marianne’s voice had dropped to a deeper groan as she bit her lip and shut her eyes tight. “I…”

She paused, breathing heavily, huffing mightily through her nostrils. Then, she yowled, fluttering conviction suddenly coming together in one great surge of energy. “I can’t hold on any longer!” 

As she cried out, she lifted her hips off of Byleth’s, pussy clutching at him as she rose, and then came down with a rush, spearing herself on his dick. Her ass smacked against his thighs, knees pressing hard into the carpet, forcing a surprised grunt out of him while she started to move.

Marianne dragged her hands across his stomach and chest, not digging in her nails as strongly, but still leaving his skin red and tender where she trailed her fingers. Her hips rose, then fell, dropping herself on and off his dick in a jerking rhythm, the cum within her meeting his cock with a messy squelch every time she bottomed out. Wet, meaty slapping sounds rang out when their crotches came together, and Marianne whined as her legs wobbled, still struggling with herself even as she rode atop him.

“Professor!” She cried out, her voice high-pitched and sharp. “Yes, yes! More, don’t stop!” 

Of course, Marianne was the one directing the pace, not Byleth, but she didn’t seem to be in a mind to recognize that reality. Her tongue was lolling out of her mouth, jaw half-slack, eyes wild and hungry. Her tits bounced, wobbled, jiggled and jostled in time with the heaving movements she was bringing to bear atop him. She was sliding frenetically up and down on his dick, knees wobbling from the constantly compounding weight being exerted on them with every lift and collapse. Though perhaps that was just another sign of the thinness of her self-control. 

Marianne clawed at Byleth’s chest more strongly, scoring the skin more roughly, both their bodies slick with sweat. The two of them groaned and hissed with every rub, slide, and squeeze. She was definitely building up to her crescendo, grunting and panting with a ferocity that Byleth could only think of as feral. There certainly wasn’t anything like her usual quiet, morose reservation in how she was slamming herself onto his dick, or shrilly calling out, or bloodying his chest with deeper drags of her nails. He’d thought he’d gotten used to how feral her...condition seemed to make her, but her strength and intensity still surprised him.

“I...Gyaaah!” Marianne lifted herself half-off of his dick, slid her legs back down into the kneeling position she’d fallen atop him on, and began an eager grinding motion all around his dick, keeping herself flush to his crotch, hilted on his shaft. She wasn’t going up-and-down anymore, but she was still rubbing his cock on all sides.

“I can’t take it, I can’t take it, _I can’t take it I can’t take it!”_ She keened and wailed, swiveling her hips to milk Byleth’s dick with the side-to-side circular motion. “Give it to me! Give it all to me, _all of it, give it all up for me_ ** _right now_** **_Professor_** _!”_

She spoke with hunger and a terrifyingly singular need. It called to him, echoing the thrill that he’d felt when he’d filled her up with his seed, only now she was the one demanding it of him. Byleth grit his teeth, trying to resist the pressure and urge to blow, exercising his glacial self-control and willpower to stave off the eruption.

Marianne wouldn’t have it. She squeezed and gripped him with fervor, a command implicit in how she bore down on his dick. A more literal one spilled from her drooling, panting lips as she glared down at him, her voice rattling and croaking with a low desperation that was both unsettling and deeply, deeply arousing.

“ ** _GIVE ME YOUR CHILD.”_ **

She did not scream, but that didn’t make it any more of an order, or any less enthralling. Something swirled in her eyes, a presence and a shadow, red and black and angry, a yawning, starving darkness that demanded to be filled and fed.

Byleth gave up his hope of resisting. Arching his back, reaching down to sink his hands into her thighs, Byleth exploded, balls pumping spurt after spurt of the seed she demanded right up into her womb, splattering her with the same intensity that he’d emptied his nuts into her before. The flood of seed sloshed and squished in contest with that which already dwelled within her, a double serving of warm, gooey goodness, the perfect delivery of what she wanted.

Marianne threw her head back, cunt gripping Byleth to swallow more of his cum, to push him to pump more inside, so much more, until his balls ached and his vision swam. She came hard on his cock as he creampied her, and she never stopped howling, only trailing off in interims of descending rawness as the rush started to sink in, and slip away.

“ ** _YES YES YES Yes yes yes_ ** _yes yes yes_ yes yes yes…”

She kept herself still atop him, suddenly stiffening. The grip of her cunt on his cock relaxed, as did the pushing of her hands against him, and a great sigh seemed to rob her whole system of the fury that had powered it so far. Her limbs loosened, and her head lowered, looking back down towards him,

Byleth caught a spark of that churning void as it retreated from Marianne’s pupils. Then she blinked, and it was gone, and her eyes were soft and light brown once again. She still looked like a mess, with her hair strewn wild, skin dripping with perspiration, but now her tension was...gone. Whisked away, such that now the flush in her face looked more like an embarrassed blush, a frown on her lips.

“I’m so sorry, Professor! I...I know I asked for your help, but...it’s never been that bad before, really!” Marianne averted her gaze, letting her hanging bangs cover her eyes. “I’m not making it easier, am I? Sorry…”

Byleth felt like he’d been run through the wringer and left out to dry. His back was stinging like crazy from his cuts being rubbed against the carpet, his chest didn’t look much better, and he could barely feel his legs. He bit his lip to suppress a groan of soreness—he didn’t want to make Marianne feel any worse, and judging by her miserable expression, she already was censuring herself for her behavior—and slowly rose into a half-sit, resting on his haunches, one arm extended backwards to support him.

In truth, Marianne had...definitely surprised him, even more than before. It took a lot to frighten Byleth, but at the very least, he was cowed. But Marianne didn’t need to know that. She clearly felt awful for lashing out at him, at using him to ride out her episode, and he shouldn’t compound her self-hatred. Better to comfort her instead.

He stopped her mumbling apologies with a lean of his head forward and a soft, clumsy kiss on her lips. She squealed gently under her breath at the touch, but did not push him away, even as Byleth reached a hand up to cup one of Marianne’s breasts in his palm. He only separated to murmur to her that no, she didn’t have to apologize, he was happy to help, and he was grateful she had let him. She giggled softly as he kneaded her tit with his hand, pressing into the skin with a wide, firm hold.

“T...thank you, Professor.” She said unsteadily, but the strength in her voice started to solidify as she spoke. Marianne sighed warmly as he moved the hand that had been supporting his back to grab at her other breast, confident in his ability to stay upright, back perpendicular to the floor. Byleth was groping both of Marianne’s tits now, pawing at them with insistent, but careful movements, tweaking and tickling her nipples with the lines of his palm. She really _did_ have lovely tits.

She yelped at the touch, then stammered a halfhearted apology. “Sorry. They’re...ah, they’re very sensitive…” 

“I...ah!” Marianne squeaked in a tiny voice when his thumbs nudged the underside of her chest, dragging across the soft space with exploratory touches. “I think that it’s passed, but if you still want to, we can...you know?” 

Marianne flushed more fiercely, the color softer and warmer, rather than the raw redness of her prior overexertion. She blinked and fluttered her eyelashes in what was probably supposed to be a coyly inviting look, but Byleth couldn’t help but laugh at just how silly it all felt, in a good way. One moment, she’d been coarsely begging for him to cum inside her, to put it coarsely, and the next she was feeling self-conscious about asking him to continue going at it. He didn’t mind, and he understood her uncertainty: the energy she had adopted in the throes of her Crest-induced trance made her seem like an entirely different person. Now that she was brought down from the rush, she was more like the woman he’d known at the academy, if a bit brighter and stronger in her bearing.

Byleth whispered that he’d be _more_ than happy to. Keeping his dick inside her and his hands on her chest, he gently stood, holding Marianne by her thighs like when he’d fucked her against the wall. Only now his goal was something altogether more fitting her return to form. 

As he lowered her back onto the bed, and draped himself across her, Marianne sighed at the continued, familiar fullness of not just his cock within her, but his double serving of seed. Idly, he mused if he should linger on her lust-addled proclamation, but he brushed it off: Marianne deserved his whole attention in the now, rather than lingering on distracting questions.

Marianne wrapped her legs around Byleth’s waist as he slid himself further home, jostling with what he had already poured into her pussy as he pushed forward and deeper into the hole he hadn’t left since he’d first penetrated her. The familiar warmth and velvety, soft tension was as lovely as ever. With her rancor blunted, it seemed to take on a differently tuned hold, lovingly wrapping around him and inviting him deeper rather than aggressively swallowing up his shaft and demanding further penetration. She cooed softly, separating from the kiss to tilt her neck up and give Byleth the opportunity to gently lap at her neck, caressing where he’d bitten down so roughly before. 

His hands were still on her tits, still squeezing and groping and sweetly grabbing, reluctant to be parted from such immaculately plushness and perfectly squishiness. Every little rub of her nipples brought another inviting moan from Marianne, and a lovely shudder throughout her body that reverberated right down to her slit, causing her to tense and grasp at his cock with sincere, firm affection. 

He slid into her further, until his cockhead pressed towards the depths of her well-creamed pussy, nudging just before that which lay beyond, a promise and, perhaps, a little bit of a threat. His balls nudged Marianne’s backside, the firm, still-full orbs pressing softly against the bud of her back hole, earning another tiny gasp of delight from the woman he’d stuffed full of his dick.

Then, he kissed the crook of her neck, drifted his lips up to meet hers, and pulled his hips back to slip forward again, as Marianne sighed in delight beneath him.

Byleth did not find himself pounding away at her, but doing this had its own marvelous appeal. He could feel every little twitch, every miniscule throb of warmth, and enjoy it accordingly. Marianne was so soft, so warm and so reactive, constantly giving him new pulses of heat and tension to enjoy on his dick, and fresh quivers of her body and lips against his. The constant, ever-moving hold his hands had on her tits kept her twitching and present, and brought giggles from them both when a particularly clumsy or indelicate brush of her nipples left her squeaking into their joined mouths. 

He could’ve played at that with Marianne forever, or at least for as long as their bodies and duties could stand. The soft tap of his nuts against her asshole, the sliding and squelching of feeding his dick to her with delicate affection was not the sort of thing that might have gotten him off hard and fast. It didn’t, until Marianne broke the kiss, met his eyes, and watched as Byleth leaned away, more fully groping her chest with broad, firmer fondling motions. In between her whines and groans, the key words slipped out.

“Inside, Professor. Please? Inside again, for me?” Marianne bit her lip, arching her back as she spoke, trying to squeeze him tighter and bring forth his load. Byleth couldn’t say no. He spilled himself into Marianne with unhurried splashes of seed, holding himself fully within her, balls twitching as they rested on her back hole and fed her more and more cream. Marianne wiggled her hips and crooned as he gave her what she wanted, twinging around his cumming cock in a lazy peak, until she was sighing happily, and he felt his edge shave off. It wasn’t the frantic, rushed outpouring of spunk that he’d fucked into her twice, but it was no less satisfying for its languid pace.

He made to withdraw, finally feeling something approaching drowsiness come on him. He’d already had a long day, and he’d cum three times here already. Marianne stopped him by securing her legs around his waist, holding him inside, letting him feel how much he’d cum into her already: a treble load, warm and sticky and so, so potent.

“I meant it. What I said. About...about having your child, Professor.” Marianne smiled nervously, but her eyes shimmered with joy. “It’s not just my Crest. I mean, my Crest, it made me act that way, and say it like that, but I…”

She bit her lip. “I’ve wanted that for some time, from you. After you vanished, the cravings got worse, and they seemed to call for it, to anticipate it. I dreamed of a moment like this, of a chance like this. Now that it’s here, I don’t want to let it go. I don’t want to let _you_ go.” She squeezed her legs, and her pussy, to emphasize. 

“And...I think it could help, with my...with my outbursts. Maybe. But either way, Professor, I want…” Marianne leaned forward to press her forehead to his, looking him straight in the eyes. “I want you to make me a mother, Professor. And I ask that of my own volition, as I am now, uninfluenced by my Crest.” She leaned back, and released her leg-lock, leaving the choice up to him. “Please?”

Byleth paused. It seemed in line with his perplexing interest in keeping his cum buried within her, but still...Was another round of furious, feral energy building up in her, more subtly? Was she truly making her request in sound mind? More fundamentally, could he trust her?

That last question cinched it. He had doubts, about her condition, about her hunger, but he trusted Marianne. He had to believe that she wanted this, _truly,_ and was earnestly beseeching this of him with clear intent. Otherwise, how could he justify his faith in her? 

Byleth nodded, smiled, and told Marianne that yes, he would be happy to do as she asked. He told her that his only regret was that he hadn’t been around to help her sooner. Otherwise, he would have impregnated her years ago, if her desire had lingered that long.

With a final kiss to her grinning lips, Byleth turned Marianne over softly, onto her side, and scooted up behind her, spooning her from the back, dick still lodged firmly within her from this angle. Her rear pillowed up against his crotch, squishing softly as he pushed against it. He reached above and beneath her to cup her breasts from behind, prompting Marianne to giggle. “You really do adore my chest, don’t you?”

His answer was to pinch her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. Marianne yelped, bore down on him more tightly, and scoot backwards to press her ass against his crotch as he began to roll his hips. He couldn’t really properly _fuck_ her from this angle, but he didn’t need to: they were both tired, both sore, and both probably going to be in a fair bit of pain later. That wasn’t the point. The point was to knock her up, and have fun doing it, and that didn’t require him to frantically pound her or even fully bury his dick to the base in the hole he’d already smothered three times with his seed, though he could do that with a bit of angling if it came to it. But it didn’t

Marianne turned her head back to kiss him, angling herself such that her right side lifted slightly off the bed, freeing his right arm to more confidently grope and paw at her chest. The rolling, swiveling, rollicking motions of his hips were not hurried in any fashion, but he could not resist the urge to fondle Marianne’s lovely breasts with a certainty and control that belied the sleepiness of the moment. It served to heighten her pleasure, as she cooed and sighed into their joined lips, trembling around whatever part of his cock was in her at any given moment, and he simply couldn’t get enough of her tits. How they squished beneath his grip and swayed with his wrist movements, and how they gave way to his touch when he grabbed more firmly. No doubt Marianne would have teased him for his fascination if her mouth had been free, but he paid her back by nudging her nipples whenever he could to throw off her concentration.

Byleth’s eyelids fluttered with drowsiness, but his exhaustion did not take away from the perfection of the moment. Of sliding his dick into Marianne from behind, the two of them enfolded into and onto each other, his whole body cradling her protectively. The seconds seemed to slow, and narrow down to just the two of them, and their joined torpor, until the very lack of energy could be said to further their pleasure. It was soporific, and in that fashion, it was affectionately erotic in how carefully their motions pushed them towards joined sleep.

With Marianne’s left arm around his head, pulling him into the embrace of their mouths, Byleth sighed, relaxed, and let go. His orgasm washed over him, and into her, with a suffusing, blossoming warmth that eased him even further. Every languid pump of cream into Marianne’s overstuffed womb was another push towards rest, and another chance to give her the seeding she desired, but it was no mere, reluctant duty. He adored it, the feeling of giving her the fourth and final helping of spunk that she’d enjoy today, and she did too, in her overexerted, quiet way, as a ripple of stimulation rolled through her, and over his cock.

One final moan into his lips, and then she broke away, mumbling happily while Byleth relaxed his squeezing of her tits.

“So much...you’ve given me so much, Professor.” Marianne murmured slowly, contently, purring with subdued joy. “I’m...I’m sure it’ll work, and I’ll make you a father, but if it doesn’t, there’s...well, I might have more yearnings in the future...”

Marianne yawned, curling up deeper into the spoon as Byleth, at last, let his dick slip free from her pussy. The smallest bit of the four loads that he’d fed her leaked out from her lower lips, but he was happy. Even if today didn’t take, well, Marianne had made her hopes quite clear. So although his body was sore, his back and chest were going to sting, and his balls ached with how much they’d been overworked, drained, and pumped empty, he couldn’t find any reason to not see this as a success, for now and for the future.

Cupping Marianne in his embrace, Byleth kissed her on the back of the neck, but she was already dozing off, unresponsive, and he barely had time to notice before he joined her. Their sound sleep was a testament to the strength Marianne had found in her five years alone, and to just how dearly Byleth had done his best to help her.


End file.
